


Hold Fast

by Carrogath



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrogath/pseuds/Carrogath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucina wavers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Fast

**Author's Note:**

> Technically not a companion piece to Let It Go, but you can read it that way if you want.

Lucina’s cape seemed more like a cloak nowadays, bloodied and tattered and torn. It looked bigger on her than it did before, or maybe it was her that had shrunk, worn down by weeks of fighting Risen armies that seemed as if they might spring back to life at any moment. It dragged behind her when she walked. Still, the cape, combined with the polished circlet Lucina insisted on wearing, gave her an air of authority. However sordid and battle-scarred, she was still the ruler of Ylisse, and wherever she was, they were.

The Shepherds were nearing the end of their journey. They pitched tents all across the ruins of Mt. Prism, along the dead grasses and muddy slopes where mythical wildflowers were once said to have grown year-round. Their army had shrunk to a mere fraction of its size since the beginning of the fight against Grima, from five thousand strong to one hundred. At its core stood Lucina, and beside her, Laurent and Severa, the two most logical of their lot in a panic. They had been making preparations to ascend to the mountain’s peak when Lucina cut the meeting short and whisked off, tattered cape trailing behind her. Severa had chased after her on impulse. Laurent prevented the rest of the group from leaving the tent.

She didn’t know whether to be grateful for that. With the strange gray mist rising from the mountain, and the sky an eerie lavender-white, she was beginning to feel lost herself. The moisture settled on her skin and leathers, and the thin air slowed her pace.

“Lucina?” Her breath turned white in the cold air. “Lucina, where are you?”

No answer. She groaned. She considered turning back and waiting, but anxiety nipped at her heels. Their leader had been curt, nervous, speaking in clipped sentences as opposed to her usual fluency, and she hadn’t even ended the meeting properly. Severa would be the only person stupid enough to chase after her. She knew well enough that Lucina would be coming back. She just needed space.

“To hell with that,” she grumbled aloud. The ground was slick and gravelly beneath her boots. One wrong step could mean death. She held out a hand to lean against the rock face, and looked around. Everywhere, it was the same grayish purple mist. If the Risen came here, they would have the advantage; no one could see a thing on this damn mountain. Naga’s shrine, her ass. She had all but abandoned them.

Straight ahead of her, the path was rocky and narrow. Rounding the mountain she knew there’d eventually be some kind of ledge, and lower still the ground began to even out, and become walkable. She guessed that Lucina had taken the path down and had settled somewhere below to be by herself, wrapped in that dirty cloak. Again, the urge to turn around and walk back struck her. She wanted nothing more to be with the others in the case of another Risen attack. Lucina could take care of herself.

“Dammit.”

She kept walking. At some point, she lost her footing and slid down the rest of the way on her behind. She hardly cared; she was grimy enough. A little extra dirt wouldn’t kill her. Through the thick mist, she imagined seeing Lucina, all clad in blue fabric and blue armor, blue all around. She shouldered twice as much responsibility as anyone in the group—as anyone in the country, if you could still call it that—and she was barely as old as their parents were when they formed the Shepherds. Now that the world was crumbling at their feet, even the responsibilities she’d been given were being taken away from her. Soon there would be nothing left for her to rule.

She wiped her hands on her skirt and kept walking. Higher up, they’d been able to see the black clouds and eerie purple sky in the distance, where Grima made its nest. When it wasn’t raining, it was bitter cold, and the land had started to die out almost immediately. The crops withered, and there was famine; the rivers were choked with miasma. As they approached Mt. Prism, they saw live things, here and there, and could drink fresh water, but they had left so many others behind to die. Grima would devour the whole world. 

Severa thought of her mother and her pegasus. She hated Cynthia bitterly for being able to ride her mother’s mount; Severa had nothing left of her own mother’s. Even a pegasus she couldn’t ride was better than nothing. But this was Cordelia, so of course, she would never do things halfway. She must have died fighting.

She passed the ledge and came onto the rocky hill. She couldn’t see Lucina, even if she was around, so she called for her again. “Lucina? Are you there?”

Nothing, of course. The air down here was easier to breathe, ironically. The ground here looked more barren than it did closer to the peak. Severa felt tired, all of a sudden. It had been less than twenty minutes and she already felt as if the Risen, sloppy as they were, could kill her in one hit. But she wanted to see Lucina. She walked around in a circle, and looked for that tattered vagrant’s cloak. She didn’t feel the cold anymore.

Panic struck her as she imagined Lucina being attacked by Risen just a few moments ago. Maybe they had stolen away with her body; maybe she become one of them. Perish the thought, Lucina becoming a Risen. Then Severa really would have nothing left to live for.

She swept the perimeter with her eyes. “C’mon, Lucina,” she whined, “this isn’t funny. The sooner we reach the top, the faster we can change things. If we don’t do it now, we might not be able to do it at all.”

Lucina materialized from the mist, as if responding to her call. “Severa?” She gripped a scroll in one hand—their battle plans.

“Is it really you?” she asked. “You’re not just some illusion? I’m not going crazy?”

She smiled wryly. “What do you think?”

Severa frowned. “Anyway,” she said, “why did you leave?”

She looked hurt. “I needed—I needed to be alone. I know we have to do this, but I needed some time to think. There are so many uncertainties. We might not even survive the jump. Where are we even going, Severa? What will become of us?”

“I don’t know. But we have to do it. It’s our only chance.”

“I wish I could think of it so simply. And…” She looked away. “We’re going to be leaving this whole world behind. We’ll be gone from it. Forever.” Her breaths puffed out as she spoke, blending into the mist. “We won’t have a past. We won’t have anything. No one will understand. This,” she extended a hand, “will fade into oblivion.”

“It’s already gone, Lucina. We’re not going to bring the dead back to life. We’re just going to make a new world, where this never happened. That’s the only way we can fix things.”

“And leave these people here to die.” Her voice was harsh. “The survivors here will never benefit from what we do in that new world. They’ll be different people, with different memories.”

“You can’t save everyone,” Severa said, but she knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“What if something goes wrong? What if this world disappears? We’ll never be able to return to it.”

“You have to try.”

“And if Father doesn’t believe us? If he thinks this was all made up? What if he rejects me?”

“Lucina, you have to stop thinking about it!” Severa grabbed her arms. “You’re not going to get anywhere thinking like this.” Her voice was shaking. “Please. Come back to camp. Everyone is waiting for you.”

She shrugged Severa off. Her cloak billowed in the wind. “No.” She hugged her shoulders. “This is where I belong.”

“Don’t be stupid. We need you, Lucina. No one is going anywhere without you.”

She turned away. “Why me? I failed you. I failed all of these people.”

“Stupid! I’m still alive, aren’t I? Owain and Noire and Cynthia and Brady and everyone else, they’re still alive, aren’t they? For gods’ sake, you have done nothing wrong. You aren’t perfect. No one is. Stop trying to be.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? We’re almost there.”

“The world is ending.” Lucina glared at her. “I’m surprised you’re so quick to throw it all away.”

“There is nothing to throw away. Everything we had is gone. The only things we have left are the things we’re taking with us. Memories included,” she said firmly. The wind picked up, tossing her hair around.

She was quiet.

“We have to go. If you stay here, you’re going to die.”

She shook her head. Her hair billowed out.

“Lucina, please!”

“This is my Ylisse.”

Severa walked up to her. “This is not Ylisse. This is a hellhole that Grima created. You don't belong here; you belong with us. _We_ are Ylisse now.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “You understand? Ylisse is no longer a place; it’s a people. We carry it with us, now.”

“That makes us no better than refugees.”

“It’s better than being dead,” Severa spat, and Lucina lashed out at her. She caught her hand, nearly taken off guard, and saw anger smoldering in her eyes.

“We’re broken, destroyed,” she said. “It’s pathetic. Look at us.” She extended a hand. “Look at where we are! Is this really better than being dead?”

“Lucina.” The hand she was holding trembled.

“How long has this war been raging on? We’ve lived our whole lives in filth. You keep asking me to believe and have hope, but there was never any to begin with, was there? We had nothing at all, and now we’re about to leave it. We came from nothing; we’re leaving with nothing; what am I supposed to believe?” She snatched her hand out of Severa’s grasp. “We don’t even know where we’re going to end up! It could all be pointless!”

Severa took a step back. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You have to put it behind you.”

“Put what? Put what? Severa, who am I?” She held her hand to her chest. “What am I the ruler of? Where is any of this going to lead?”

She clenched her teeth. “You lead us. You lead the Shepherds. We love you, Lucina; I do. You have to understand that we’re here for you. And even if it isn’t enough, it has to be.”

“Then this is all a sham!” She ripped out her circlet and tossed it to the ground. “I wasn’t meant to lead anything but a ragtag group of vagabonds.”

“So that’s all we are to you?”

Lucina sank to the ground. “What am I? An Exalt? A princess? Marth, the Hero-King?”

“You’re Lucina,” Severa said, and bent down to meet her.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does to me. It does to us.”

She ran her hands down her face. “I try to be so many things, but what am I, really. I’m just a girl playing at being a hero.”

“That’s OK.”

“It is not. And you, of all people, I can’t even imagine how you can stand to deal with all of my outbursts.”

“You’d be surprised,” Severa mumbled, dredging up memories of her mother. “You’re only human, after all.”

Her brow furrowed. “And what does that make you?”

“The only person who’s stupid enough to put up with it, I guess.”

“I can’t go back there, Severa.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “I’m sure the only reason they let you leave the camp is because you’re the only person who could bring to me back to my senses.”

“I’ve gotten used to it,” she said, grinning wryly. “You don’t really open up to anyone else.”

“I wonder why that is.”

“Well, Laurent is too awkward to deal with other people’s emotions, and everyone else is more or less missing their common sense.”

“Is that so?” Lucina said, finally looking at her. Her eyes and nose were red, but Severa hadn’t even noticed her crying. “I’m grateful, then.”

“Really, don’t be. If I weren’t doing this, I—” She stopped herself short.

“You what?”

“Nothing.”

She frowned. “Severa, the world’s about to end. Nothing you can say could possibly be too important to hide from me.”

She shook her head. “N-no, really, it’s not important. You don’t need to hear it.”

“Severa.” Lucina raised her head, so that she was looking down on her. “If you have anything to say, you really must say it now. It might be months before we find each other again.”

She groaned. “I just… I like doing this, OK?”

“What? Listening to me rant?” Lucina asked, flabbergasted. She brushed the ends of her cloak aside, so that Severa saw more of her body, her tunic and her greaves. “Why?” She sounded amused. “I would make myself miserable! What could you possibly find enjoyable about it?”

Her heart began to race. “B-because I want… to know more about you,” Severa said woodenly. “And I care about how you’re feeling. Enough to ask, even.”

Her expression softened. “Even when I’m ranting like a madwoman?”

“Yes,” she said tightly. Her shoulders stiffened. “Even when you’ve totally lost it.”

“Your patience must be infinite.”

“It isn’t patience.”

“Then what is it?” Lucina was smiling all of a sudden. She looked tickled at the prospect of whatever Severa had to say about her. Severa wanted to shrink into herself and disappear.

“I don’t know,” she lied, wiping the hair out of her face. “I just… don’t know how else to be.”

“That’s a peculiar answer. Of all of the Shepherds, you’re the first person I can think of who seems to know herself best. You’re not telling me the truth.”

Severa flushed. “Then what do you think it is?”

“You tell me.”

She lay on her back and stared up at the hazy purple sky. Lucina had been right about everything. They didn’t know where they were going. They didn’t know where they would end up. They didn’t know if they would survive traveling through time; they didn’t know if their parents’ past selves would believe them; they didn’t know if they would be able to succeed even given a second chance. It seemed so hopeless now. It was almost impossible to believe that things could be any different. It was unreal.

And all this time, she had been stupidly pining after Lucina, slavishly, heeding her every beck and call, throwing herself out in front of her during battles, acting reckless and almost suicidal in her desperation to keep the girl alive. She wanted Lucina alive. She would go crazy if Lucina weren’t alive. She had put all her eggs in one basket and if Lucina didn’t up to all of her expectations, well then, she was done. She couldn’t count the number of scars she had developed as a result of trying to protect her no matter the cost, when she should have been trying to keep herself alive.

She couldn’t bear the thought of rejection.

“Let’s stay here,” she said. The very notion was ridiculous.

Lucina rearranged herself so she was sitting beside her, and clasped her hand. “Here? In this wasteland?”

“We don’t have to go back. If you don’t want to leave, I’ll stay with you.”

“What for? You’re smart, and you’re strong. You could go anywhere.”

“So could you, and I don’t see you going anywhere.”

“That’s true.”

The moments passed in silence. Severa expected a Risen arrow, or a Fire spell, a shriek of an undead wyvern to dispel this illusion of normalcy.

“What do think they’re doing about us, right now?” she asked.

“They’re probably worried.” Lucina was probably right. Who wouldn’t be? She laughed, brokenly, into the silence, and the mist swallowed it up. “If we never go back, all of this could be ours.”

“The Risen will kill us,” said Severa.

“Then we’ll become Risen too. Everyone does, in the end.”

“And then what?”

“And then, I suppose, we won’t have to worry about anything.”

“That sounds fucking awful.”

Lucina squeezed her hand. “But it’s familiar.”

“You’re scared,” she said. “Of what? Moving on?”

“The future. Nothing.” Lucina shrugged. “Just being alive. I won’t know how to cope, knowing that they’ll never have to see this. It’s almost unfair that they don’t have to. It makes me sick to even think about it.”

“And that’s why you aren’t leaving?”

“What do you think?”

“I’ll go where you go.”

“That’s an unfair answer.”

“It’s true.”

“If I elected to stay here, you would stay with me?” Lucina looked at her.

“I would,” she said, in total honesty.

“That’s absurd.” Lucina frowned at her, but couldn’t muster up real anger. “No matter how deeply you must feel about me, you have to preserve yourself.”

Severa laughed—one short, sharp bark. “Ha! I don’t care.” She curled up on the ground. “I’d rather die fighting Risen than leave you here.”

“You could see your mother again.”

“And you’d be able to see Chrom.”

Lucina’s fingers splayed across the back of her hand. “They won’t remember us, though.”

 _Kiss me_ , she wanted to say. This moment was perfect. She wanted to freeze time. “I don’t want to go.”

“You have to,” Lucina said idly. “They’re waiting for you.”

“I came here to find you,” she snapped back. “I’m not moving until you start moving.”

“Then you were the wrong choice.”

“Excuse the hell outta me then,” she mumbled, and gasped when Lucina pushed her down, straddling her waist. Her face burned. “Lucina?”

“Just once,” she begged, “please, let me have this, just once.” It didn’t seem like the plea was directed toward her, but all the same Lucina bent down and kissed her slowly, greedily. Severa’s arms circled her neck, pulling her close. Lucina fumbled with the buttons on her cuirass.

She felt for her hands and eased them off.

“What?” Lucina asked, breathless.

“It’s not over yet. Don’t act so desperate.” She kissed her quickly, but Lucina bent her head down low, drawing it out.

They stared at each other for a long time, listening to each other’s breaths.

“Are you ready to go now?” Lucina searched her face.

“Are you?”

They separated. The ground seemed stuck to her. Lucina stood up and wiped the dirt off her pants. The heat of her body still clung to her clothes. Severa hauled herself upward, exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” said Lucina, picking up her circlet. She tucked it into her tunic.

“Don’t be,” she said.

Together they walked back. The next day, not a trace of the camp was left.


End file.
